


Cogs

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Humans Are Weird, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, May the 4th Treat, Post-Episode: s03e21-22 Zero Hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-25 15:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: "You brought him home. That makes him yours."





	Cogs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExtraPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraPenguin/gifts).



Kallus still stood in the middle of the mess of fallen containers, rubbing his face with his hand, when they ran in to see what the noise was about. "I'm fine," he said, before they asked. No one else was close enough to have been struck by the containers.

Zeb expected Hera to blow up at him. Her temper had frayed to a dangerous edge during these past several days. Without Sato here, she was in charge of the ragged remains of their squadron. While Zeb had privately sworn to himself he was staying until the end, following her right into hell if need be, he hoped that wouldn't be as a direct result of Hera's last nerve snapping.

She took a breath. In a much calmer voice than he expected, she said to Zeb, "You brought him home. That makes him yours. You clean up after him." Then she walked away.

Zeb took that as an order. He reached for the nearest container and started to restack them. Kallus just stood there. "You gonna help with this?"

"I was expecting her to fire me."

"You haven't spent much time in the Rebellion yet. We're too desperate to fire people."

Kallus glared at him, then caught Zeb's grim smile. He returned it, reaching for another container and handing it up to Zeb, who could reach higher. "Here."

"Look on the bright side. You didn't drop a crate of grenades."

Working together, they soon got the mess sorted into the zones AP-5 had designated for foodstuffs. Kallus rested for a moment against the far more stable pile. He was in good physical shape, but this wasn't the kind of labor he'd be used to. Zeb asked him, "How're you holding up?"

"Fine," he said quickly. "What's the next task?"

Zeb scratched his head. Kallus sounded way too eager to please for someone who'd tried to kill them all on several occasions. "Now we're on a break. Come on." He left the storage area, heading for some fresh air. "You know nobody is mad at you, right?"

That earned him a sideways glance. "I can't imagine why I might worry one of the rebels I attempted to assassinate might want me dead. Oh wait."

Zeb couldn't help him there. They had the murder of Lasan standing between them. Zeb's anger was gone, helped by the knowledge some of his people had survived. He'd buried their grudge back on that moon. He couldn't speak for anyone else's grudge. Kallus had left a lot of corpses behind him. They all had.

"We've all done terrible things." He chucked his thumb over at Chopper as they walked past. "Even the droid has a body count in the hundreds."

"Thousands. I've seen his file. Have you ever considered sending him as a gift to the Emperor? The war would be over in a day."

Zeb had in fact considered it. The two things stopping him were his certainty Hera would kill him, and his uncertainty if Chopper might take down Palpatine only to declare himself the new Emperor of the galaxy in Palpatine's place. He shook his head. The galaxy didn't appreciate how good things were under the current dictator. The Emperor was only evil, ruthless, and genocidal. He wasn't deranged, too.

They found themselves outside the temple complex where they were setting up the new base. Other rebels passed them, working on their own tasks or trying to look too busy to be assigned new ones. The others nodded or waved greetings at the pair, none of them taking a second look at Kallus.

"What's really eating you?" Zeb asked him, when they were out of earshot. "People have been trying to kill you every day since we met. That's nothing new."

Kallus folded his arms. "I'm fine."

Zeb folded his own arms. He lived with people a lot more skilled than Kallus at avoiding discussion of their emotional problems. Zeb had been forced to learn body language for two other species as well as the droid. "And?" They were far away from everyone else here, cloaked in the lush greenery of the jungle, surrounded by animal cries and the distant sounds of construction.

"I helped your cause because it was the right thing to do."

"Still is."

"I had a purpose when I was Fulcrum. I had a function. Now I'm another pair of arms. You don't need me. The droids are more useful and they don't need fed."

Zeb thought about it, really thought. The last time he'd heard a self-pitying whine like this, it had happened inside his own head. Cogs in the machinery of a cause might be necessary, but that didn't make them feel important. He remembered what had set those worries to rest. "You remember the Clone Wars, yeah?"

"Of course."

"The Separatist army was full of droids. They had some people, but the fighters were all clankers. Rex told me all about them. Well, they lost. Yeah, part of that was because of stuff going on with the Emperor and all, but the real reason was because you can't replace people with droids. The Rebellion exists because people want to live free. You can't replace that, not with anything. We need you because you want us to win."

It was the longest anyone had listened to him without interrupting for ages. He could see Kallus thinking it over.

"You're telling me the Rebellion runs on desire?"

"That and caf. Fuel helps." Zeb started ticking off on his fingers. "Rations. Can't do much without rations, or medikits. Munitions."

Kallus watched him, face moving into amusement. "You give the worst pep talks I've ever heard."

"Nah. That's Kanan when he goes on about how we're all going to die."

"Does this happen frequently?"

"You get used to it."

Kallus turned and started walking back towards the base. "I quit. I'm rejoining the Empire."

Zeb snorted and put his hand on his shoulder to turn him around. Suddenly they were a lot closer than he'd been expecting, staring at each other. Humans did this thing with their mouths he'd never sorted out. That seemed unsanitary. Food went in there! Lasats expressed their affections with hands, resting the comfort of their thumbs against the temples of the other. Much cleaner.

Kallus's hands weren't on Zeb's temples. They touched his shoulders instead, tugging him down, and yes, humans were all about mouths. He understood the concept, and held back his instinctive recoil. Actually, it wasn't so bad. Maybe the humans were on to something.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," Kallus said, moving his head back, keeping his body close. "We should get back to base."

Interspecies relationships got complicated fast. Zeb had seen the trouble they caused. On the other hand, they appeared to have some benefits he hadn't considered. "Well, since we're both here and on our break, you could try it again. For practice."

The second time was less shocking than the first. Warm, yes, and wetter than he was comfortable with, but pleasant. Definitely pleasant. Zeb touched his thumbs to the human's temples, and felt him sigh into his mouth.

Work could wait.


End file.
